Chapter Eleven
Gideon
I held Liss until she cried herself out. Then I took her straight home. Peeling away her clothes, I turned on the bath and scrubbed her clean. The water ran red down the drain. Still, Liss said nothing, staring glassy-eyed into space.
Fully clothed, I eased myself into the tub, settling her in my lap. The hole in my side felt like it was splitting me open, but I gritted my teeth against the pain. The bullet went through and the bleeding had mostly stopped by now. I’d be fine.
But Liss…
I didn’t know if Liss would ever be okay again. She killed her own brother. Even if he was an abusive scumbag who beat the living shit out of her for years, his death by her hand would take a toll on her.
For the next week, Liss wandered through the house as silent as a ghost. She spent hours on the couch, huddled in one of my shirts, listless, gazing out the window. I wished I could climb into her head and obliterate whatever thoughts were torturing her.
Baby Doll went shopping for Liss and picked up any clothes and toiletries she might need.
Tex cooked for us so we didn’t have to, filling the refrigerator with Tupperware—fluffy biscuits, baked beans, roasted chicken, a casserole, and a sweet potato pie.
Blackbeard stitched up my bullet wound, leaving me with pain killers and strict orders to remain on bed rest for a few weeks.
Kingpin paid a visit with an expensive bottle of high-end whiskey.
“Make sure to tell your girl she has nothing to be sorry for,” he said. “She did what she had to do.”
My gaze strayed to my bedroom door where Liss was sleeping.
“I’ll pass the message along. Thanks, Kingpin.”
After depositing the whiskey in the kitchen, I slipped into the bedroom. Liss was curled up in the dip of the mattress where I usually slept. The sheets were tangled around her ankles, leaving her legs bare and her shirt hitched up around her hips, putting her panties on display.
I stepped closer, gliding my knuckles along her leg. Then I smoothed her shirt down and tucked the sheets securely around her.
“I’m not sorry,” Liss said, her voice raw.
I perched on the edge of the bed behind her, placing my hand on her hip.
“You shouldn’t be.”
“He hit me a thousand times. He starved me. I was a pawn to him.”
I didn’t respond, letting her say what she needed to get off her chest. She hadn’t spoken this many words together for days—not since her brother’s death.
“Does that make me a monster like him?” she whispered.
The breath punched out of me. Is that what she’d been thinking for the past week? She defended herself against her abuser. That made her strong as hell and I was so fucking proud of her. How could she possibly believe—even for a moment—that she was anything like her brother?
“No, baby,” I replied. “It doesn’t. Not even close.”
When Liss remained silent for several seconds, I kicked off my boots and slid into the bed behind her. I pressed a kiss to her neck, chaste and soft. She tugged my arm around her.
I remembered that heart-stopping moment when Liss and I emerged from the burning clubhouse to face her brother. I remembered the way she looked up at me with beseeching brown eyes and a small, clear voice.
Let me go. I’m not worth all this, Big G.
That was the problem. For her entire life, no one had protected Liss the way she deserved. When she took matters into her own hands and defended herself, she questioned whether she did the right thing because it was so foreign to her.
I was willing to spend the rest of my life teaching her what it was like to feel safe and loved in the arms of someone willing to die for her. But for now, I tried a different angle.
“Do you remember when I said I had two or three bullets left?” I asked.
Liss nodded.
“Well, it’s difficult to keep count in a gunfight like that,” I continued. “Everything happens so fast. You can lose track if you’re not paying attention.”
She rolled over to look at me.
“What are you saying?”
I trailed my fingertip along the ridge of her nose and thumbed at her chin. Reaching down, I hooked my hand behind her knee and drew her leg over my hip. I wanted her close for this, needed her body slotted with mine until there was no space left between us.
“I’m saying I checked my gun. There was no ammo left.”
Liss stopped breathing.
“I had no bullets, baby,” I said. “Your brother didn’t know that, so I was bluffing. But I couldn’t hold out forever. You saved my ass. You protected me.”
Her fingers traced over my chest as she grappled with that realization.
“I promised I wouldn’t run anymore,” she said. “I couldn’t lose you.”
“That’s what family does for each other. We fight bloody. And you proved you’re just as tough as the rest of us. You’re a Blackjack, sweetheart.”
Liss’s breath hitched and her mouth crashed against mine—needy, desperate. My hands roamed her body, pulling her tight against me. Her fingers slipped beneath my shirt, straying over my bandages. I pulled her panties aside, stroking her clit until she was wet and hungry.
I tasted the salty tears of her relief on my lips as I unzipped my fly. Liss grasped my cock with her quick fingers, nuzzling into my cheek with a flurry of kisses.
“I love you,” she murmured against my skin, over and over.
It took every ounce of self-control to tear myself away and fumble in the nightstand drawer for a condom. I barely had it on before Liss was guiding my cock home into her hot, slick heat. With slow languid thrusts and tangled tongues, we were lost in each other.
***
Two weeks after the fire, Kingpin called a meeting in an unofficial capacity so we could regroup. Since we didn’t have a clubhouse anymore, I volunteered my backyard as a place to meet up. It wasn’t much bigger than my house, but it served as the perfect excuse to make Liss feel welcome among us.
By the late afternoon, ten bikers traipsed through my backyard and took over. Tex manned the barbecue, grilling steaks. Baby Doll picked up two dozen cupcakes from the local bakery, and Crash carried in enough beer to get half the damn town drunk.
Even though we looked like a ragged group—bruised and scarred with bullet holes—there was camaraderie in the air. Despite losing our clubhouse, we still had each other.
After food had been passed around, and beer had been consumed, Kingpin finally cleared his throat and made the announcement we’d been waiting for.
“I think we’ve had enough time to lick our wounds,” Kingpin said. “It’s a damn shame that we lost the clubhouse. But now we have to get back on our feet and rebuild.”
Crash whooped. Credence raised his beer in a salute.
“Hear, hear.”
“Spike and Big G, you’re in charge of organizing a fundraiser to bring in the money we need for supplies,” Kingpin said. “Baby Doll will write up a budget for us to work with.”
“I’d like to help,” Liss put in. “It’s the least I can do after putting you all through so much for my sake.”
“No offense, little girl,” Vlad grunted. “This is club business.”
He looked like he’d been shoved through a meat grinder—a broken wrist, a constellation of fading bruises in various shades of purple, blue, yellow, and green marked his face, and he walked with a limp.
Liss dropped her gaze, poking at the remnants of stake on her plate with her fork. I hooked an arm around her shoulders with a squeeze.
“I’m afraid he’s right,” Kingpin said. “You’re welcome to join the fundraiser, but we can’t ask you to lift a finger when it comes to organization. Club rules. No outsiders behind the scenes.”
Liss looked annoyed.
“I tended bar for you when I was a stranger you picked up off the streets. That sounds like behind the scenes work to me.”
“We’re living together,” I pointed out. “Liss is practically my old lady by now.”
Kingpin clucked his tongue.
“Doesn’t make it official though. There’s a process for this sort of thing, you know. Standards. Protocol. You get the idea.”
Liss frowned and pushed her plate away.
“Like what? Name your price. What kind of hoops do I have to jump through before you finally make it official that I’m part of your little band of misfits?”
A pause settled over the group. Kingpin caught my eye and the corner of his mouth twitched in a small smile.
“Crash, did you bring that box I told you to pick up?” he asked.
“Sure did, boss.”
He held up a large, flat box. Kingpin tilted his head in Liss’s direction.
“Hand it over.”
Liss glanced at me in confusion. I shrugged. I wasn’t telling her anything. She’d find out soon enough.
Crash placed the box in her lap. Everyone stared at her, waiting. The tips of her ears turned a faint shade of pink.
“You’re not pranking me, are you?” she asked.
“That will come later, darlin’,” Tex said. “The hazing never stops around here once it starts.”
“If you really want to hang with us,” Kingpin said. “You need the right gear.”
Liss opened the box. Folded inside on a cloud of tissue paper was a plain, unadorned cut. On the back was one patch that read: Property of Big G.
“It’s customary in a club to wear your man’s name on your back,” I said. “It shows the world we belong to each other.”
“A few days ago,” Kingpin added. “Big G asked the club for our blessing to marry you. Baby Doll had that cut made up for you within an hour.”
“We would be proud to call you sister,” Baby Doll said.
Liss hugged the cut to her chest. She turned her glistening eyes on me. My heart ached to see her bursting with happiness like this. I touched her cheek softly. She was finally eating full meals these days, getting regular exercise outside, and it showed. Her face held a pinch of color to it, and her hips were softer. I couldn’t count her ribs anymore either.
“You’re one of us now,” I said. “Welcome to the family, baby.”